


Strange

by prairiecrow



Series: Lethe's Curse [13]
Category: ReBoot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Blood Drinking, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mental Domination, Politics, Spiritual Vampirism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bath, a conversation, an argument... and for Bob, a revelation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Takes place on the world of Lethe, where Bob and Megabyte awoke stripped of their memories, formed an alliance of convenience — and found themselves, one day, profoundly physically changed. 2) Takes place after "Possession" and just before Megabyte deposes the Red King. 3) In the Lethe!verse a clear distinction is made between bedmates (sex without deep attachment), lovers (sex + emotional devotion), the engaged, and the married, so when any of those terms are employed in this series they're used with those specific cultural meanings in mind. 4) A picture of Megabyte and Bob at this point in the chronology: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v189/crowdog66/lethebobmegabyte-1.jpg

The combination of hot water, soothing oil, sweetly scented steam and an unarmoured virus to lean back against in the bath was, Bob reflected, a pretty damned fine way to end a day that had been full of gradually increasing tension. He lay between his lover's thighs with his eyes closed and his head resting on Megabyte's right shoulder, letting the heat and the perfume begin to banish the tightness in his back and shoulders, his arms stretched out along the wide rim of the deep tub inside the line of Megabyte's own limbs of living steel. It was, he was certain, one of the most physically secure places in all of Lethe, and he was determined to enjoy it before everything potentially went straight to hell.

Tomorrow was the Summer Solstice and late tomorrow afternoon Megabyte would step into the Red King's official amphitheatre and challenge the monarch of Omalan, or his chosen representative, to mortal combat for the right to rule the Domain. It was an ancient ritual that took place every three years and one that inevitably involved only a token call for challengers that went unanswered, followed by the declaration of a three-day citywide celebration and the distribution of presents to the attending spectators.

This year, the current Red King's ninety-eighth such ceremony, would be different — and it felt like all of Cestiala knew it. Bob had made a number of friends among the lower and middle classes in Omalan's capital during the past few months, and earlier this evening he'd bought a round of ale for several of them in the Red Dog Tavern and listened intently while they described the rumours that were busily circulating: that Megabyte, having risen to such early and startling prominence in the Grand Council, was going to answer the King's challenge… that he was going to tip his claws with poison and slay the Champion sent against him by cunning rather than by skill in combat… that he already possessed natural venom and had no need of the poisoner's artifice… that he'd made arrangements to have the King assassinated tonight before the challenge could even be issued… that he'd lead his army of the Enthralled into the amphitheatre and take the kingship by force of arms… and a dozen variations on those themes besides, including plenty of speculation that Omalan's current Ruler wasn't going to take any of this lying down. It was also clear that betting on the outcome of the challenge was proceeding fast and furious, and that while the bookmakers were calling winning odds on the Red King's Champion a lot of people (presumably the Enthralled) were putting their money on Megabyte. 

Bob wasn't placing bets on anybody. If Megabyte won tomorrow, the viral warlord would become heir to all the riches of wealthy Omalan and Bob, as his new Champion and Consort, would have no need of a bookie's payout. And if Megabyte lost…

Dammit, the tension was back — in spades. Bob drew a slow deep breath, took firm mental hold of the keen ache that had settled in his heart at the thought of losing the most important being to him in this world, and pushed it forcefully away. It went, but it refused to be banished beyond the edge of his mind and the nagging trace of fear it left behind lingered like spoor on a trail. 

A deep thrum from behind him refocussed his attention: a low purr of contentment, more like the vocalization of a huge cat than any creature that walked on two legs. The subtle scent of the virus's skin, dark and metallic, was entwined with that of the expensive oils he'd poured into the water and was, in Bob's opinion, far superior. The sprite smiled ruefully: he'd become so accustomed to this, to being permitted to live casually within the aura of power and strength that many people in Cestiala would never dream of approaching… but he wasn't entirely careless. That was never a good policy where Megabyte was concerned. The intimacy that had been granted to him by the heart of that proud arrogant isolation was a gift, one that for a very long time he'd thought wasn't going to be given at all — and one that he never failed to appreciate.

"Do you ever stop to think about how strange it is?" he wondered aloud, breaking the silence for the first time since they'd entered the bath.

"Hm?"

"This, I mean." He slid his hand down Megabyte's forearm to cover his long slender hand, slipping his fingers in between the virus's and closing them tight. "Us."

"Oh, from time to time," Megabyte replied with an idleness that fooled nobody present.

Bob snorted. "I'm serious. I mean, look at us — we couldn't be more different. I'm younger and you're older, I tell the truth and you lie to anyone who'll listen, I respect the rule of law and you break it whenever it suits you…"

Megabyte picked up the refrain and put his own spin on it: "Order versus chaos, self-control versus volatility, severity versus generosity, nobility versus common stock…"

"I prefer to think of it as having a talent for getting along with everybody, thanks."

"Now now, Bob, don't take it personally."

"Bullshit," Bob scoffed, but the water was too warm for him to put much force behind it. "For all we know, _I_  could be the one with high-born parents."

"I think not. For one thing, you embarrass."

He scowled, darting a glance upward. "What's that got to do with it?"

"True royalty never does."

Bob raised a highly sceptical silver eyebrow. "So having no shame is a mark of being better than anyone else?"

Megabyte chuckled lazily. "Among other things."

"Hmph." He shifted slightly, settling himself even more comfortably. Paradoxically, the familiar give-and-take of argument with his lover was doing what mere warmth and wetness couldn't. "If I weren't so damned relaxed I'd argue that point, but … what did you say you put in the water?"

"A new oil that the Court perfume merchant just acquired from Aoral province in the Blue Witch's territory. It's distilled from a night-blooming flower that only puts forth buds every seven years. Do you like it?"

"I'm letting you get away with saying you're better than me, aren't I?"

"But I _am_  superior to you, in so very many ways. Surely you can't deny that?"

"Don't get me started…" Bob muttered. Megabyte clearly had the advantage in terms of raw intelligence and the ability to accurately calculate complex odds, that was pretty hard to deny, but there was no way he was going to admit as much out loud.

Megabyte's fingers tightened briefly around his. "Just as you, I must grudgingly note, possess your own inimitable... well, I suppose one could call them 'virtues'."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Fishing for compliments, are we?"

"I'm not _that_  relaxed. C'mon, Megabyte — spill."

Megabyte sighed as if asking the universe for patience. "Oh, very well… Loyalty, for one thing. A certain native cunning, for another. And bravery, certainly."

"Bold of you to admit it," Bob said wryly.

"By the way, you left out organic versus mechanical in making your little list of opposing qualities."

"Well…" His smile turned hot. "That part turns me on, so it doesn't really count."

"Oh, I'd say it counts for a great deal." He nudged Bob's head further to the right with his sharply contoured cheek and pressed a quick kiss to the line of the sprite's throat. "May I?"

"Mm." Bob knew what was being asked and he nodded, closing his eyes as the virus kissed his neck again, this time with an edge of silver teeth that penetrated the skin with a little thrill of clean pain. Before the first drops of blood could trickle free Megabyte's slim lithe tongue was slowly stroking the wound, absorbing Bob's ethric life-force along with the fluid — an act considerably more intimate than any kiss, and one that quickly made Bob feel like he was starting to float in the heat and steam of the bath, all trace of care and doubt fading beyond the borders of his conscious mind. He wondered, as he often did in moments like this, if this euphoria was what the Enthralled felt all the time: he imagined that it was, and that that was why so many people succumbed to Megabyte's infection gladly and remained under its influence so willingly. 

Bob had to admit, it was certainly seductive. Still… the cold tracks of his dread remained. "Don't," he murmured.

Megabyte paused in his ministrations, and Bob could well imagine the sudden keen intensity of his downward gaze.

"Not that." He reached up his free hand and curved it around the side of Megabyte's neck, his fingers finding familiar hollows to slip into behind the line of that sculpted jaw as he pulled the virus back down again. "Tomorrow, I mean. He'll kill you. The whole town's talking about it."

This time the deep laughter that vibrated in Megabyte's throat was dark and menacing. "He may try. But he will fail."

Now Bob was relaxing in earnest; Megabyte was tasting his spiritual essence, but the contact went both ways and he loved the sly shadows that slipped thin and agile through his every vein, twining over his heart. Dimly he realized that this was an unusual depth of contact — and that Megabyte never did anything without a precisely calculated reason. It was yet another fundamental difference between them. "I'm serious," he insisted against the low background pulse that was urging him to submit and just let things happen, against the sensuous caress of that slick reptilian tongue that was trying to distract him. "The King's got something planned, and if you go into that arena you'll be —"

"Listen to me, Bob." Megabyte's lips shifted to his ear, his richly textured voice filling Bob's awareness like the most beautiful and lethal music. "Come this time tomorrow, _I_  will be the Red King of Omalan. No Champion, or any contingent of Champions, can stand against me, as you well know. But," and he paused just long enough to place an emphasis on what followed that Bob, familiar as he was with the virus's tricks of speech, couldn't miss, "if you should prove correct, you're not to remain in this city an hour after I fall. You're to find Captain Rufus, who will take the First Army and see you safely —"

Even through the pleasant buzz of etheric intoxication the impact of those words penetrated — and with it the sudden realization of exactly what Megabyte was up to. Bob sat up in the bath so sharply that scented water sloshed over the sides and twisted at the waist to glare at his mate, who gazed back at him unblinking from beneath sternly lowered brow ridges. "What the — you're trying to — to hypnotize me!"

The rise of one ridge, and a tone of infuriating innocence. "I beg your —"

"To make me follow your orders like a —" Now that his irrepressible ego had successfully resisted the attempt at mental domination he was wide awake — and so outraged that he was literally seeing red. He let go of Megabyte's hand as if releasing a venomous snake and leaped out of the tub, grabbing a towel on his way out of the bathroom and striding into the main living space without a second's thought for the water he was dripping onto the expensive carpet along the way. 

Megabyte, of course, was right behind him, and back in full armour from the sound of it: Bob's keyed-up senses could detect the impact of each metal-shod footfall, but he didn't turn his head and he didn't pause as he wrapped the towel around his waist with quick angry jerks. Only when he reached the bedroom did he come to a halt, and even then he didn't turn to face the virus, concentrating instead on grabbing Glitch from the bedside table and slapping the keytool onto his right forearm. 

 _Neutralize virus Y/N?_  it asked as it reattached itself, picking up on the cause of his distress, who was currently speaking in a soothing tone that drove Bob even more crazy: "Now, Bob, be reasona —"

"Hell no!" he yelled at both of them, and spun to face Megabyte, who'd come to a halt an arm's length away and was gazing down his sharp nose at Bob in a way that suggested the sprite was a child in the midst of a tantrum. "I don't _believe_  you! Do you honestly think that if I saw you killed in that arena I could just pack up and move on like —"

"I expect you to survive," Megabyte rumbled in his most commanding tone. Bob wasn't buying it.

"Well, think a —" He stopped dead, staring up at the virus with a flash of abrupt understanding that came over him like the rising of the sun, bringing with it warmth and light and amazement. "That's it? That's your main concern?"

"Captain Rufus already has his orders," Megabyte stated, his burning gaze never leaving Bob's face. "He is to collect you and depart Cestiala with the First Army, which will be prepared to assemble at a moment's notice. Once he's gotten you safely past Omalan's borders it's up to you where you choose to go, but I would suggest the Domain of the Blue Witch — she has no love for the White Queen, or so it's said, and —"

"But what about all the additional Omalanese troops you've picked up?"

Megabyte studied him for a moment, as if wondering how he could possibly fail to see the blatantly obvious. "The less reason the King has to pursue you, the better. Take what we came here with and go, Guardian, and if you're lucky he'll decide you're not worth the effort — and if he does…" His smile was malevolent. "The entire First Army will fight to the death before they let any harm come to you, if you're wise enough to let them do their work. But all this is, of course, entirely theoretical."

Bob studied him in turn, his expression softening. "Because tomorrow you'll win," he said.

There it was, the proud tilt of that square chin that Bob knew so well, and the quality of gloating self-assurance in his smile. "Let's just say that I hope the good citizens of Cestiala who aren't yet part of my contingent are prepared to be surprised."

Bob shook his head, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around the virus's tall powerful body and to rest his head on that plated shoulder. "You didn't have to try to dominate me," he said quietly against Megabyte's breastplate. "You could have just _told_  me what your plan was."

Strong hands settled on his waist and enclosed it tightly as that marvellous voice spoke against his hair: "And will you obey me without the benefit of any… persuasion?"

"If you're dead," Bob said with perfect conviction, "I'll have other things on my mind besides getting the hell out of Cestiala."

"Rufus knows exactly how to proceed. All you need do is follow his instructions." One hand left Bob's waist to trace the line of his spine with a sharp edge of claws that made the sprite shiver, coming to rest around the nape of his neck. "I want you to promise me that you won't attempt any grand heroic gestures, Bob — that you'll forget about any wild thoughts of vengeance, and save yourself."

"I'd think vengeance was something you could really get behind under those circumstances," Bob observed.

Another laugh, full of evil promise. "Oh, rest assured that I've taken care of that." He caressed the back of Bob's neck, then took hold of it to tilt the sprite's head back and gaze into his eyes. "Now, do I have your word?"

It was Bob's turn to sigh with resignation, and to roll his amber eyes besides. "Yeah, all right, I promise: if you lose the combat tomorrow — which you won't — I'll turn tail and run away as fast as I possibly can."

"Good boy," Megabyte purred, and rewarded him with a kiss that took his breath away before taking him to bed and taking him entirely. And Bob did not resist — in fact he threw himself into the joining wholeheartedly, his passion only enhanced by the awareness that _Megabyte_ , possibly the most self-centred creature on the face of Lethe, had just admitted to caring enough about him to ensure his safety when Megabyte himself would be beyond being concerned about such things… and that gesture, as strange as it was, said far more than the virus's often duplicitous words could ever be trusted to express.

THE END


End file.
